Fictionally Frustrated
by figleaf
Summary: Ian wants to have a happy love life, but is real life really better than fiction? ianthony. Suggestive themes and swearing.


Ian looked up from his computer screen in frustration. "Goddammit, Anthony!" He yelled to the man on the couch playing The Legend of Zelda on his Nintendo DS.

Anthony paused and looked up at him. "What?"

Ian sighed pitifully, resting his chin on his hand with his eyes still on the screen.

"Sorry. I'm reading Ianthony fics…" he trailed off, clicking and scrolling down.

"And?" Anthony asked, slightly irritated he was interrupted from his game.

"Why can't our sex life be as good as the ones people make up for us?" he whined, turning to Anthony.

"This again? Come on, Ian. You know we don't have time for all that crazy shit. I mean, we're lucky to even be taking a break from editing right now," Anthony answered back, continuing his game.

"Yeah," he reluctantly agreed. "I guess so…"

"Besides, would you _really_ want a milk enema, or have me rape you with food?" He added humorously.

"Well, no... but spicing up our sex lives every once in a while would be nice, I guess."

"What did you have in mind?" Anthony asked without sounding unduly curious, still engrossed in his game. "Alright! I got the bow!" he cheered, standing and raising his arm up enthusiastically. Ian ignored his discovery and thought about his question.

"I dunno. Um, why don't we try roleplaying tonight or somethin'?" he mumbled.

"Yeah, okay," Anthony agreed as he slew monsters with his newly acquired item.

That night Anthony was lying in bed, dressed like Ash Ketchum while playing Zelda when he heard a knock at the door.

"Uh… come in…?" he replied, slightly confused.

"You're supposed to be in character!" he heard Ian hiss from the other side.

"Oh! Uh, I mean… come in," he said again, in the same voice.

The doorknob slowly turned and Ian walked in wearing a long brown wig, a button up jacket with fake breasts, and makeup.

"Edward honey, I'm so glad you…ANTHONY!" he exclaimed angrily.

"What?" he asked, furiously mashing buttons to defeat a boss.

"You're supposed to be dressed like Edward!" Ian yelled angrily.

"I a-" he looked down.

"Ah, crap. Well, we could still do that thing you wanted to do or whatever," he suggested, eyes moving back to the tiny screen.

"You mean, _have sex_?" Ian grumbled. "Dressed like Ash Ketchum. _And… and frickin' Bella_?!" Ian ran a frustrated hand through his fake wig. "Are you f…" he took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "Okay, _fine_ but tomorrow we'll try something better. And for fucks sake Anthony put down that damn ga-!"

Anthony shushed him. "Hold on, dude, I gotta get this piece of heart really quick."

Ian rolled his eyes when Anthony suddenly cheered. "Yeah! I totally got it in one try, dude! One try!" He held up a finger enthusiastically and grinned.

The next night after they spent the whole afternoon editing, Ian pulled out a box he hid under the bed. He tossed the box next to Anthony sitting on the edge, playing his game.

"Put some of this on. He ordered."

"'K," Anthony replied, reaching into the box while still looking at the dual screens. He felt something leathery and looked inside.

"Dude, what the hell?" he asked pulling out various leather undergarments. He looked inside and saw a ball gag, a whip, some rope, and handcuffs. "Dude, you seriously want me t-OH MY GOD IAN, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!" Anthony shrieked giving Ian a wide eyed expression of shock. Ian was wearing a gimp mask, a studded leather thong, and had a whip in his hand.

"Um, I'm making you my bitch…?" he said second guessing himself now. Anthony almost didn't know how to respond.

"I, n-no. Just… no." He got up and walked out with his game in hand. He took one last look at Ian and gave him a strange look, shaking his head and going into the other room.

Ian sighed aloud.

"Damn. I wonder if I could still return all this stuff," Ian asked himself.

The following night was promising to be better. Anthony just got home from running errands all day, and stepped inside from the garage.

"Hey dude, I'm… _home_?" The lights were dimmed to a warm orange glow, the smell of incense burned in the air while romantic music played in the background.

"Ian?" he asked, looking around the house. He walked to the table and saw a folded piece of pale pink stationary. Anthony opened it up and read in soft cursive writing, "_Come to the bedroom- Love, Ian_"

"This is gonna be interesting," he mumbled to himself. Anthony walked to their room and knocked on the door.

"Ian?"

"_Come in, my love_," Ian softly replied.

Anthony walked into the room and saw Ian on the bed wearing a white silk robe. The bed was covered in red rose petals, and candles placed around the room burned with a warm glow while two glasses and a bottle of champagne were sitting on the dresser.

"_Hello, lover,"_ Ian purred in a low seductive voice. "_I've been expecting you_."

"Uh…" Anthony replied.

Ian chuckled lightly, grasping the bottle of champagne.

"_I know you must be thinking this is rather… much, dear Anthony, but for you -lover-I would bring you every glistening star in the sky just to press myself against those soft, fragile lips of yours_. _Would you like some… champagne_?" he offered, pulling the cork.

Anthony stood speechless.

"I-I, um… s-sure, dude," he stuttered.

Ian began tugging on the cork more forcefully.

"Have a-_urrg_- seat, _lover_," he grunted, trying to force the cork out.

"Um, do you need help with that?" Anthony concerningly asked, reaching out for it.

"No!" Ian growled, pulling it away. "Er, that is, _of course not, lover. Ha ha ha!"_

"No really, man. I can open it. Come on!" Anthony said, reaching for it again.

"I almost got… hrrrg!" They both began fighting for the bottle while Ian struggled to get it open when suddenly the cork burst out of the bottle and shattered the window in one quick motion.

Both boys sat wide eyed looking at the broken glass everywhere while the bottle overflowed with bubbly foam, dowsing the bed, the carpet and themselves.

"Goddammit," Ian sadly cursed, slouching down in defeat.

"Don't worry, man. I'll clean it up," Anthony insisted, as he began to gather the large pieces of glass into a pile.

Ian fell back on the moist bed and started whimpering. Anthony looked up from his cleaning.

"It's not that big of deal, man. We'll have it all cleaned up in no time and then we can fuck, alright?" Anthony smiled, hoping to cheer him up. "Ian?"

Ian was crying into the pillow.

"Hey…" Anthony softly said, placing his hand on his shoulder. Ian looked up at him and sniffled.

"I…I just wanted everything to be p-perfect, but it always ends up getting… _fucked up!"_ he sobbed, his face contorting from the tears.

"Babe, you're trying too hard," Anthony cooed, stroking his back affectionately. "We don't need some crazy-ass sex life like on the internet to be happy. Just be yourself. _That's_ the Ian I fell in love with."

Ian's blue teary eyes looked up at him. "R-really? You mean it?" Ian asked, sitting up.

Anthony nodded, and hugged him endearingly. "I do," he said in a soothing tone.

Ian's lips curved into a smile and he pulled away just enough to see the soft brown eyes in front of him, filled with love and affection.

"I love you, Anthony," he smiled tenderly as he leaned in for a kiss. Anthony kissed back passionately, moving an arm to the crook of his neck.

"Hey," Anthony whispered. "Why don't we get cleaned up and continue this _in the shower_?" He grinningly asked.

"I read a few fics about that too," Ian offhandedly replied.

"Well in this case, real life's gonna be one hell of a lot better than fiction," Anthony grinned seductively.


End file.
